Chapter 1
The day began like any other for Adele Sampson. She worked at the Imperial Savings and Loan, a bank much like any other in the neighborhood. Everyone who worked there was pleasant, and Adele enjoyed her job there as teller. Granted it didn't pay as much as she would have liked, but she was only a nineteen-year-old girl, still living with her parents, and as such, didn't have very many expenses. She contributed to the household welfare, giving her parents half her salary, little knowing they put the money in a bank account in order to give her a nest egg when the time came for her to get married.
Adele was a beautiful girl, very tiny, petite, all of five feet tall, with short auburn hair cropped in an Italian bob. Her mother was Italian, and she had taught Adele to speak the language when Adele was only a child. As a result, Adele was able to converse with one of the other girls who worked as a teller, who also spoke Italian, without anyone else in the bank, or most of the customers, knowing what she was saying.
Most of the bank's customers liked Adele very much. It was always pleasant having a young girl with a white complexion, a turned-up nose, gray-green eyes, and a sensual mouth, smiling. Those who saw her on her break, when she stepped from behind the large counter, saw that in spite of her size, she was solidly put together. Her breasts, though small like Mackintosh apples, were just as firm, with thick nipples which, even in their relaxed state pressed firmly against the reddish-brown sweater she was wearing, making themselves stand out. Her waist was one of those narrow ones a man with large hands was able to span, and she had curvaceous hips that undulated naturally when she walked. Beneath the seed-brown skirt she wore, full calves narrowed into delicately trim ankles. Everything about her was so delightful.
She spoke Italian as flawlessly as she did English, with no hint of an accent. Her eyes were bright beacons that made almost all the customers smile.
Adele lived on Long Island, in the town of Stoneville Border. She worked in the next village, the village of Baldrick. Though she had often read about the rash of bank robberies that had taken place in California, she felt she had nothing to worry about because no one would attempt something like that on Long Island. The robberies in California were done by Ma and Pa thieves, one-time robbers who, because of having lost their jobs and being unable to get another, committed the hit-and-run robberies, usually at drive-in banks, taking a quick fifty to a hundred thousand in order to give themselves breathing space. Most of them weren't caught because they were amateurs, and the FBI and the local police had no records of these people.
But it was the success of these bank holdups that gave one of the employees at her bank the idea of pulling off a robbery.